Shadow of the Conqueror

by Shad M Brooks

  “You have a ride back, don’t you?” Paradan asked as they arrived at the pier.

  “I’ve organized everything that’s needed,” Daylen said. “Now, can ya help me off?”

  “I can do more, if you like,” Paradan said, looking to the ship.

  Daylen gazed down the long pier and forced himself to swallow his pride. “That would be…appreciated.”

  With Paradan’s support, Daylen made his way to the carrier.

  “Thank you for the help, Paradan,” Daylen said.

  Paradan nodded, letting go of Daylen. “I’ll see you when you get back. After all, I need you to teach me some of your swordsmanship.”

  Daylen didn’t want to disappoint the man, so he lied. “I look forward to it.”

  Paradan left and Daylen purchased his ticket, first class, considering this was his last flight he wanted to enjoy himself, and checked in his darkstone.

  There was very good cause for skyships to check in all darkstone. With the speed at which skyships flew, if someone covered a piece of darkstone from light while in flight, the stone would instantly stop its movement through space. The ship would still be moving forward, making it seem like the stone shot backward, where it would rip through the entire ship and any poor soul in its way.

  Daylen looked over the ship as the tollman helped him aboard and smiled. He was so much closer to what he desired more than anything else.

  So much closer to his death.

  The Denwind, a Lightspeed-model carrier produced by Hammenlight Incorporated, flew through the air with remarkable silence. Only the slightest hum from the passing wind could be heard, which was amazing, for Daylen knew a Lightspeed could reach speeds of five hundred kilometers an hour. It was mindboggling.

  Once, it would have taken eighteen falls for an army to march the distance he was now travelling in two hours. Two hours.

  These falls, the far-off exotic lands weren’t nearly as unreachable. Light, the world had become a smaller place.

  Unlike Paradan’s wagon, which used normal daylight to push the darkstone, skyships used large sunstone hubs which were fixed all around their darkstone core, called drivers. With inbuilt magnifying lenses they provided much greater control and, of course, much greater speeds thanks to the more intense and focused light.

  Being only two hours the trip seemed over all too soon when Daylen felt the ship start its descent.

  It had been a comfortable flight having travelled in first class and he had savored everything from the glorious views to the familiar soft hum of the wind outside.

  Once at the edge of the city’s airspace, there was a brief wait as the ship queued in line to pay the entry tax at one of the floating registry stations. Any skyship that wanted to enter a city’s airspace had to be marked on the registry, a procedure Daylen himself instituted. They would then pass through this city’s shield net.

  The ship moved again and gently came into dock. The door was opened and the gangplank lowered.

  The passengers began to file out and Daylen waited until last, not wanting to fight the crowd.

  Getting to his feet was like trying to crank a rusted pump; but he managed, barely.

  The tollman handed him his box. “Do you need any help in the city, old one?” He was a Lourian with their characteristic sky-blue hair, reddish-brown skin, big lips, and impressive height.

  “I’ll manage,” Daylen said. “But your help down the gangplank will be appreciated.”

  The tollman did so and bid farewell, returning to the ship.

  Being an edge city, Talatale traded in skyfish and whale mostly, though a man with half a nostril could figure that out. Luckily, the edge winds would periodically blow away the sharp scent of fish and blubber.

  As was common, the skyport sat in the middle of the city; not that they were built in the middle, just that once built, the cities often grew around them. They were the centers of trade and commerce. By the look of it, Talatale’s port was too small for the city’s trade, Daylen noted; there would likely be other smaller ports placed throughout in an attempt to compensate.

  They really should have built the docks in stacks, Daylen thought to himself, but such a thing took foresight and planning. To put stacks in the docks now, they would have to shut parts of them down, which would cause a lot of issues for the city’s commerce.

  Daylen found himself on a dock near the industrial part of the port, and from here he could see a few skywhales being skinned at that very moment.

  They were massive creatures, the size of a skyship carrier, with broad pointed flaps on either side that stretched the length of their flat bodies. This gave them a stretched diamond shape, the flaps enabling them to steer as they fell through the endless skies.

  Daylen pulled his eyes away, ignoring the sudden urge he had to eat a nice whale steak. He wouldn’t be able to stomach the meat anyway. Light, was he sick of broth.

  Though Talatale was an edge city, it was still at least a kilometer away from the rim.

  Luckily in cities, and especially their ports, hand-pulled rickshaws were everywhere, including along the raised pathway where the Denwind had docked. The rickshaw pullers would have known a carrier was coming beforehand. Even with the new public transportation busses, the rickshaws were still around. They could get to places that skyships couldn’t.

  The rickshaws could have been powered by a darkstone pusher, like Paradan’s wagon, but that would have been a waste for a small two-seater. Oh, there were two-seated darkstone carts around, but they were rare, for a darkstone pusher could power a large wagon just as well. Besides, a basic pusher cost about a hundred grams, too much for a rickshaw puller, as the trade was increasingly being taken up by the poorer class.

  Daylen hobbled over to one of the rickshaw pullers, a young lanky man with an all-too-happy smile.

  “Where is ya goin’, grandpa?” the dirty runner asked, speaking in a lowborn Mayn accent, his dark-blue hair a mess.

  “To the edge,” Daylen said.

  “The edge?” the runner said, looking aghast. “I can takes ya around the city, but you is better off catching a coach if ya headin’ out.”

  Daylen didn’t want to explain that once he managed to climb into the blackened thing he didn’t want to have to climb out of it only to get into another one. This journey was already taking its toll.

  “There’s a sestus in it for you.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “No, grandpa, that’s too much.”

  Daylen sighed. Only a man from Mayn would haggle against himself.

  “Fine, you set the price.”

  “Um… Four duns and five.”

  That was only five grams less, so clearly this man didn’t object to Daylen’s generosity as much as he let on—he just had to make a show of it. Damned Maynish.

  “Done. Now, can you help me onto this blackened thing?”

  The runner, whose name was Leb, helped Daylen off the rickshaw.

  “Much obliged, Leb,” Daylen said, feeling rotten. The bumpy trip hadn’t helped his condition. He threw Leb the sestus. “You can go, I’m done with you.”

  “Grandpa, we said four’n’five, not fifty.”

  “I don’t have change. Consider it a fee for helping me off.”

  “I’d be a bucket’s rag if I charged so much for helpin’ ya like that.”

  “No one will hear it from me.”

  Leb glanced about the grassy edgeside as the strong wind made a mess of his hair. “There’s nothing here, grandpa. I thoughts you were wanting me to take you to an edgeside inn, or Levenfall, the little village half a step thataways.”

  “This is exactly where I want to be.”

  “How are ya gettin’ back? I can wait for ya if ya like.”

  “Don’t need it. I’ve made plans.”

  “But, grandpa…”

  “Off with ya, you bloody sunspot, before I kick ya up the ass!”

  Leb jumped back, looking dejected; and, after a slight pause, took his cart and began
jogging away.

  The Maynish were by far the loudest, most contrary people in the world, though they saw haggling and correcting others as a sign of strength and respect. The fact that everyone else did it in Mayn meant that the most basic conversation degenerated into shouting matches. At least Leb could take a hint.

  Daylen sighed and walked to a tree that stood two meters from the edge, taking very small steps. Thankful for the windshield he leaned back, trying to recover his breath.

  It didn’t come. He needed a full fall’s bed rest to recover from the trip he had just endured.

  He gazed out into the endless cloud-speckled sky. The bright orb that was the sun sat high, shining brilliantly far off to his left.

  “So it’s all come to this,” Daylen said softly, thinking back over his long life.

  When still young, he had endured the Fourth Night, when the Shade had risen up and cast darkness upon the land. During the Night he had been forced to kill his own parents when they had turned. He came out of the Night as a war hero, being one of the survivors of the assault on the Shade’s nest. He tried to feed the people in the wake of that war, striving to work with the old aristocracy. He had seen his wife and young children murdered in front of his own eyes. He had led a rebellion against that oppressive ruling class, overthrowing them, and becoming the new leader of his nation. He had rebuilt society, and had tried to better it.

  But he had also killed kings and queens, men, women, and children, many with his own hands. He had destroyed cities, murdered millions, conquered nations, raped, ravaged, and oppressed the world.

  Daylen looked high into the sky and began to weep some of the most bitter tears of his life.

  It took a long time for Daylen’s tears to dry.

  The Plummet looked to have fallen nearly halfway between the land Daylen stood upon and the bottom image of the same landmass high above. High Fall was almost over and the people of the world, those that chose to spend their time during High Fall, would be preparing dinner. Those few who lived during Low Fall would be arising about now.

  Daylen pulled his coat shut and did up the large buttons running down its front.

  Still holding the small sunstone-lined box, Daylen opened it and took out the darkstone with two fingers.

  He tossed the box aside.

  Holding the darkstone, Daylen left the tree and hobbled to the edge of the continent which stepped down in several unmatched sections, the ground having been carried off in chunks by wind, water and storm.

  It was light cursed hard to find an easy path to each lower section, Daylen even had to sit down and slide at times which caused him great pain. At least with raised earth behind him now there was cover from the wind that perpetually blew outwards from the continent, that was until gravity pulled to air down to join the Transcontinental Current.

  He finally came to the very edge where no ground below him extended further out. At this place Daylen could lean out and look down without anything blocking his view except the few clouds that hung in the sky far underneath the continent.

  He could just see the same edge of the continent that he stood upon far below. If he had a powerful enough telescope he could have seen himself from above, leaning out and looking down on himself and the whole world, except for the sun.

  The sun was an anomaly, because it was the only thing not mirrored through the Barrier. Its position was constant with respect to the observer, meaning the sun would look to be in the exact same angle and distance to one person as it would to another who stood on the other end of the continent. It didn’t matter if you tried to place yourself closer; as people had tested over long voyages, it was always the same distance away. The position itself was based on the angle to which the sun sat in the sky, and its approximate distance placed it beyond the upper Barrier of the world. This had led to the theory that the sun wasn’t physically located within the universe, but that its light shone into the universe from the outside through its upper edge.

  Leaning back, Daylen stood for a time looking out into the sky. Countless clouds streaked the horizon; the farthest clouds had mirror copies of themselves above and below that went on for eternity for at such a distance that the whole height of the world became a thin line.

  “Finally, the end,” Daylen said.

  With darkstone in hand, he stepped off to fall to his death.

  Chapter Three

  But I loved many things my parents didn’t approve of, like dueling. I was brash and eager to prove my strength because of the fragile self-esteem of youth. Besting others in such a socially praised art bolstered my confidence, and arrogance, to phenomenal levels.

  Then the Shade rose up, casting Night on the land. Needless to say, my skill with the sword become most useful. I was sixteen years old, but my age didn’t matter; when Night fell, everyone fought, my parents included. If that night was to be the prophesied Final Night where the world would end, at least we would have fought to stop it.

  For those born after the Fourth Night, and I would assume that’s most people who read this, it was a horror I wouldn’t wish on any man.

  * * *

  Wind rushed past Daylen in a torrent as he fell limply, his body slowing and rolling with the air. He was weak, but still made sure to hold the darkstone tightly between his two fingers.

  Daylen had fallen through the sky many times in his life—such was the training for any man who served on a skyship—and he knew how to control his fall. The issue was that he just didn’t have the strength for it. Indeed, the buffeting winds made it harder to breathe, and Daylen had enough trouble with that regularly.

  He clenched his teeth as his aged weary body cried out in extreme exhaustion and pain.

  “I’m not going to die before I reach the Barrier,” Daylen told himself angrily. Anyway, the pain was a mere fraction of the punishment he knew he deserved. He should feel pain before his death.

  The side of the continent raced past him in a constant blur, yet it would still take some time for Daylen to pass it; the continent was one hundred kilometers thick at the thickest part. He knew a man could fall at most around two hundred kilometers an hour, so it would take about half an hour for him to pass Tellos, the mighty landmass from which he had fallen. It would take another nine hours to reach the Barrier, the invisible point where a man stopped falling to the base of the world and fell from its top.

  Daylen closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the wind which slowly carried him farther away from land. All he had to do was survive until he reached the Barrier, and then it would finally be over.

  Daylen’s body burned with fatigue. The air was heavy and the temperature hot. It was all he could do to keep hold of the darkstone between his two fingers. The fact that he still held the stone meant it hadn’t been nine hours yet, the time it would take to reach the Barrier. Light, it had felt like an eternity.

  The wind had buffeted Daylen violently, especially when he fell into a stronger current without warning.

  The stone Daylen held would disappear once he passed through the Barrier. Some speculated that darkstone and sunstone were absorbed into the body when passing through and acted like a poison, which was why they killed the bearer.

  Daylen knew he had to be close; the air pressure and temperature were far greater now.

  The Barrier gave a level of resistance to things passing through, like molasses being pushed through a sieve. This made the air thicken at the bottom of the world, and temperature much warmer, as gravity pushed it through and made the air at the top very thin and cold, which created a pressure and temperature differential according to altitude.

  Because of this, no clouds ever drifted nearly as low as where Daylen had fallen, but rather remained much closer to the top; which, from his point of view, still looked to be beneath him. His line of sight passed though the Barrier allowing him to gaze down on the world where clouds speckled the sky much farther below.

  The thick air pressure made Daylen’s whole body feel like it wa
s in a vise. The heat was already unbearable, and his breaths came with great effort. He could feel his mind drifting to unconsciousness, but it wasn’t sleep that would meet him there—it would be death. The fall had taken its toll on his body.

  Daylen held on to one thought as he pressed a hand onto his shirt, making sure his sunstone pendant was touching his skin: Don’t let go of the darkstone.

  But he wouldn’t last much longer, and though he tried with every ounce of strength left, a part of him didn’t care anymore. Dying from the fall or the Barrier—it was the same in the end, wasn’t it?

  “No,” Daylen groaned. “I’m going to die the way I choose!”

  But his body might not let him. He didn’t hurt as much. Not a good sign.

  Daylen closed his eyes tightly and tried to endure, but his body was failing. He could feel it. His consciousness began to fade, but Daylen knew he wasn’t falling asleep. This was the final fall into death.

  He had failed, but even in that there was relief. Finally, death had come; finally, he could rest.

  A force hit Daylen like every part of his body had been kicked at the same time and the darkstone disappeared from his fingers.

  The shock of the impact and sudden freezing temperature brought lucidity in a snap of awareness. Daylen had hit the Barrier and had felt the stone disappear… And I didn’t die.

  No! Daylen thought as the dread of failure froze his heart.

  He spun about in the air to look up as he fell. Had he let go of the stone by accident?

  No, he hadn’t felt it slip out of his fingers. It had just disappeared.

  Daylen grasped his chest to feel for his sunstone pendant under his shirt. The small brass fixture holding the sunstone to the cord was there, but the pendant wasn’t. It had disappeared, too.

  Daylen then realized something that should have been extremely obvious, but with his sudden shock, he hadn’t noticed until now. The chilly air was very, very thin.